Masquerade
by Hailey Egan Cena
Summary: Christmas One Shot for RatedrKjErIcHo. Bethani goes to a masquerade with her best friend where names and words are not allowed. She meets a handsome stranger and has passion beyond her wildest dreams. Mike/OC


This is another Christmas One Shot for RatedrKjErIcHo

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December was sending out the year with a frosty disregard for scantily clad party goers. It was beyond cold. It was frigid. Bethani had only left the cozy interior of the car seconds ago, and there was already frost forming on her eyelashes. Well, almost. She stood shivering on the sidewalk and watched her best friend primp in the car's window. Looking at her, Bethani regretted her own choice in apparel for the twentieth time that night. She watched as Alison made some last minute adjustments to her outfit before they made their way into the masquerade party. It was taking a surprisingly long time considering there wasn't much to it; a red halter top trimmed with faux white fur paired with a shockingly brief black skirt, black fishnet stockings, and black, thigh high, vinyl boots with impossibly high heels. Last time she had checked, Halloween was still in October. Bethani shrugged. Alison had never been particularly...subtle.

She looked down at her own outfit. It was a simple black cocktail dress. It had thin straps and a square neckline that she thought flattered her figure nicely. The skirt was soft and full and flirted above her knees. Her favorite part of it was the back - it plunged daringly low. She supposed it was rather understated, but the mask she had chosen for the night was very ornate. She toyed with it while she waited. It was typical masquerade style with elaborate beading and trim. It was all black, the only color coming from a bold emerald colored feather. She had gotten a bit daring with her eye make up and slicked on some deep red lipstick. She had cajoled her hair into a crown of glossy ringlets, and she had given in when Alison insisted that Bethani wear a pair of stilettos and giant silver loop earrings to up the "sex factor." Even with those additions, Bethani felt rather plain next to her flamboyant friend. A group of men walked by, whistling and calling out their appreciation for Alison's outfit. She grinned, winked, and curtseyed for them. Alison, finally finished with her adjustments, arched a brow at Bethani's expression.

"Don't be so prim," she teased. "I told you that this party required a bit more sex. Remember, we don't even get to speak for the first couple hours. And you can't take your mask off. "

Bethani groaned and rolled her eyes. "I know, I know! I'm supposed to seduce without speaking, tempt and tantalize with body language. Got it. Just one question, how did you talk me into this?"

"You know how." Alison grabbed Bethani's hand and tugged her towards the entrance to the club. "As my best friend, you're obligated to be my wingman when needed. It's rumored that there will be many a hot man there tonight. So you're needed. Now quit whining and use those pretty painted lips to find some mischief tonight."

Bethani knew she was bested. There was no way to talk her best friend out of a party. She could at least whine a little bit as they trudged through the arctic parking lot. "Who goes to masquerade parties for Christmas anyway?"

"We do. What better way to celebrate the holidays than securing a spot on Santa's Naughty List?" Alison slipped a ruby red mask covered in sequins and rhinestones into place. She winked at the door man before sashaying into the club. Bethani tugged her mask on and followed obediently.

The club had been transformed - Mardi Gras meets Christmas. Red and white silky fabric covered the tables and dripped over railings. Long ropes of Mardi Gras beads tangled over Christmas boughs. Glittering mirrored balls dripping with mistletoe hung above each table. The wait staff looked like elves that got lost on Bourbon Street. LOTS of bare chests... on both the men and the women. The entire place looked like a bad Santa's Workshop porn set, especially considering the amount of body glitter and baby oil gyrating on the dance floor.

Alison had already insinuated herself into the center of the crowd. Even with her usual witty banter temporarily muted, she was in her element and certainly didn't need a wingman. As she scanned the room, Bethani wondered briefly how she was supposed to order a drink without speaking. A waiter seemingly appeared out of thin air with a tray packed with wine glasses and shot glasses and bottles of beer. He was dressed in old fashioned tails and also wore a mask. He, of course, wore no shirt. The coat was buttoned over his belly, but from what she could see - he had a body worthy of the Chippendale's stage. She accepted a bottle with a smile and a tip of her head.

She found a spot by the corner of the bar and watched the scene in front of her. Beautiful bodies clad in practically nothing gyrated together on the dance floor. It seemed like Santa's Slutty Helper was the theme for the night. Little clusters of people batted masked lashes at each other around the edges of the room. The shadows in the corners seemed to move, no doubt filled with illicit couplings. As she toyed with her drink, she wondered if she'd have to guts to get freaky with a stranger in the middle of a club. She took a swig from her bottle. The thought had appeal... Her mind drifted to the possibilities of a blatantly anonymous hook up.

"Ahem!"

The whisper seemed to echo against her ear and she jumped, startled rudely out of her little fantasy. She looked up to find a very tall, lean man leaning on the bar next to her. He was dressed casually. Surprisingly, he wore a shirt. And no body oil or glitter. Just a crisp looking white button up shirt and jeans. His mask was brown suede, completing his very subtle look. She met his eyes; beautiful blue, framed with thick lashes, and sparkling with mirth. What she could see of his face seemed attractive. She quirked a brow at him. He leaned in against her, intimately nuzzled into her hair. Again he whispered.

"You're killing me with that bottle routine." He pulled back and looked pointedly at the bottle she still held to her lips. She blushed as she realized that she had been running it over her bottom lip while she'd been caught in her day dream.

She leaned into him to whisper. "Apologies, sir. I was lost in thought. You do know that speaking is strictly forbidden?"

"I'm not much for following the rules. You don't seem the type either." He shrugged away the idea of conforming. She opened her mouth to protest that she wasn't a rebel at all. The allure of being a bad girl stopped the words. She smiled instead and mimicked his shrug. She drank from her bottle again. Sliding her gaze his way, she slid the bottle across her lower lip. Her tongue slipped out to trace the lip of the bottle. She murmured the slightest sound of pleasure. She watched through lower lashes for his reaction. His focus was on her mouth. She licked her lips. He mirrored her in what had to be an involuntary response. He really had the most delectable mouth, she thought. She wanted to slip her tongue over his lower lip, just as he had.

Reluctantly dragging her gaze from his too-sexy mouth, she scanned the room for Alison. She was on the dance floor, seducing a hot tan guy. Bethani smirked. Alison wouldn't have hesitated for a moment; she would have followed her urge and kissed the rule breaker right on his tempting mouth. She sighed and took another sip from her bottle.

"What are you thinking about that is making you sigh so sorrowfully?" He whispered against her neck. The intimacy of speaking like this, of breaking a frivolous rule, made her pulse jump. She turned into him a bit more, her body inches from his. She lifted her face so her check was against hers.

She mustered her courage and boldly slid a hand into the hair at the back of his neck. She dropped her voice and murmured, "I'm thinking about breaking another rule."

His hands found the small of her back, tugging her closer. "What rule?"

"The one that states you should never make out with masked strangers."

His fingers flexed on her back. "That rule is antiquated and absurd. You should most definitely break it."

She hesitated. This sort of thing never happened in her life. The only risks she took were calculated. She wasn't here to hook up with a random stranger; she was here to support Alison. She glanced over her shoulder at the dance floor. Alison was dirty dancing with a tall, hot tattooed guy. Obviously she didn't need assistance. Oh what the hell, she thought. You only live once.

Bethani put down her bottle. She slid her other hand up his chest and raised up onto her toes. His mouth was barely an inch from hers. She peeked up at him through her lashes. His gaze was on her mouth, eyes bright with anticipation, but he wasn't going to take this kiss. This one was hers. She closed the distance and brushed her lips across his. Her eyes drifted closed and she sank into the sensation of him. He responded immediately. His mouth opened over hers, his hands fisted in the fabric of her dress. She pressed more fully against him. He was...hard. Aroused. His erection was pressing into her belly. A heady rush of excitement and power and lust poured through her.

The kiss was, to be cliché, the hottest thing she had every experienced. It wiped all coherent thought from her head, along with the ability to reason. She wanted this man. She didn't care what his name was, where he was from, if she was going to see him again. Alison told her to find mischief, right? He turned her so her back was to the bar. His hands slid to her waist and she was vaguely aware of being boosted onto a stool. He spread her thighs with a nudge from one of his and then stepped between them. His fingers slipped into her. He tugged her head back just a bit. The sensation that danced from her scalp, down her spine, made her moan. He took her mouth again and plundered. She slipped her hands under his shirt, up onto his belly. Mmmmmmm, hard. She traced the ridges of his abdomen. She moved her touch around his sides, up his back, down to his butt. The man was hot and hard and everything that any woman every fantasized about.

Suddenly he stepped back. He ran a hand through his hair and simply watched her for a minute. He leaned down, nuzzling her hair like he did before. "We need to take this somewhere a little less public."

He pulled back and studied her face for a reaction. She merely nodded and slid off the stool. He took her hand and moved towards the back of the club. He threaded through the dance floor, making room for her to follow him through the crowd. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back to see Alison staring after her with mouth agape. She flashed a grin before allowing her stranger to pull her away. They slipped into a hallway. Doors on either side announced restrooms. He didn't even pause. He tried a door a bit farther down to find it locked. He tugged her farther. Another door, this one unlocked. He peeked inside, sent her a triumphant smile over his shoulder, and pulled her in. The room was completely black, but she got the vague impression of an office. He didn't seem too interested in their surroundings. He pulled her into another kiss. He walked her backwards until she was pressed against the wall. His hands were everywhere; soft caresses on her cheek, possessive strokes of her back... hungry touches on her back and arms. He finally broke the kiss to burn a path down her throat to her chest. He tugged her straps off her shoulders, far enough that her breasts were exposed.

He ran gentle fingers over one, then the other, seeming to admire her before finally bending to capture a nipple between his lips. She arched away from the wall and into his touch. Her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him to take more of her. He rolled her nipple against his tongue while he sucked on her. She nearly came undone from that alone. Then his hand was under her skirt, playing over the damp fabric of her panties. He raised his head to watch her while he teased. He knew just how to touch her. His fingers stroked and pressed and dipped and soothed in just the right way. She came embarrassingly fast. She would have blushed, but his reacting moan had her needy all over again.

He pulled his shirt off over his head, unzipped his jeans, tugged them down. Then he pulled her panties down. Not off, just down; far enough that he could slide his cock in between the fabric and the wet of her skin. He stroked against her like that... once...twice... The tease was enough to have her bucking against him, ready to beg for more. He changed the angle slightly and pressed the head inside her. Hands under her thighs, he murmured instructions for her to wrap her legs around his waist. The change in position forced him into her just a little farther. They both moaned.

"Tell me what you want... Tell me to do this..." his voice was rough and low. Bethani arched into him again. His head fell back as he slid deeper into her. He growled his order once again. "Tell me."

"I want you to fuck me..." She blushed at the words but loved the feel of them. She moved against him, a calculated rise and fall of her hips. "Fuck me."

He started to move inside her... slowly, with the utmost of control. He filled her and stretched her. He felt fucking fantastic inside of her. But she didn't want control. She slid a hand between them to where their bodies joined. Her finger tips stroked over him as he slid in and out of her. He made a sound that bordered on feral, but maintained his control.

"Fuck. Me." She demanded in a whisper. He swore under his breath as his control finally broke. One hand moved up her body. He stroked over her breast, pulled sharply on her nipple before moving his hand up to her throat, cupping her jaw. His other hand gripped her ass tightly as he pounded into her. He thrust deep, hard and fast to her core. She matched his thrusts, met him in each one. Their eyes held each others as they raced towards release. She could feel that sweet, hot coil twisting inside her. She tightened around him, cried out.

His cry of release followed right after hers. His body went rigid and then shuddered. He crushed her to him, held onto her fiercely as he poured into her. Every throbbing move of his cock sent of little after shocks of release inside her. They stayed pressed against the wall in a tangle while they shuddered.

His hands turned gentle, soothing as their bodies calmed from the quake. He kissed her as he slid from her body, kissed her as they tidied their clothes and hair. He smiled at her in the dark room and held a hand out for hers.

"My name is- "

She put her fingers to his lips. She shook her head and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

"There's no talking at this party. Sssssshhhhh." She smiled and headed out.

Mike watched her leave and smiled himself. He would have to thank Randy later for making him come to the party.

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